


Outrun the Storm

by Iomhar



Series: Alternate Universe Hunger Games [6]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Choose Your Own Adventure, District 2 (Hunger Games), Gen, Hunger Games worldbuilding, Original Arena(s) (Hunger Games), Original Character(s), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28507593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iomhar/pseuds/Iomhar
Summary: Obsidian Miltiades of District 2 volunteers for the 147th Hunger Games a day shy of her 19th birthday, making her the oldest tribute in Hunger Games history.  She could have been free from the Hunger Games if she hadn't stolen the volunteer position from another girl.  Now she must go to the arena knowing that she committed an offense against her district - but unlike past District 2 tributes, honor is not her greatest motivator.Told in a "Choose Your Own Adventure" format in which the readers can influence the main character's journey.This is part of an alternate universe Hunger Games series I created.  There is no set reading order.
Series: Alternate Universe Hunger Games [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886524
Comments: 70
Kudos: 12





	1. Introduction & Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Tags may be updated as we go along.

# Introduction

Welcome to the 147th Hunger Games – Choose Your Own Adventure style.

In this adventure, you will follow the story of Obsidian Miltiades, a Career from District 2 who volunteers for the 147th Hunger Games. Periodically through the story, you will be offered choices. The readers who choose to participate will be able to state in the comments which route they would like to take.

I decided to tell a story in a different format than usual: second person and with the option for the readers (should they choose) to influence the choices the character makes. Obsidian is a character I have created with an established backstory and personality, so the decisions I give you will not be anything that deviates wildly from her personality. So, perhaps, the “Choose _YOUR_ Own Adventure” descriptor isn’t quite accurate, but I believe it best describes the nature of this story. In line with the alternate format I have chosen, you will find that the “Chapter 2” contains information about the various characters Obsidian knows and her thoughts on them, as well as background about her training. You may find it useful—or at least you may find it entertaining.

This story takes place in an alternate universe in which the rebellion never happened. It will be written in a manner so that no knowledge of my previous works is needed. In fact, a good chunk of this material will be new for people who have read my other stories. I will provide you the information you need to make decisions – and you can always ask if you have questions. There will be some spoilers, such as the winners of the 141st and 146th Hunger Games. If you have any plans of reading my other stories and don’t want spoilers, please read them first. Otherwise if you don’t care, don’t worry about it.

This character, and what happens in this story, will be canonical to future works in my series, and I will use her again (if she lives) in future, non-CYOA works. (In other words, even though you guys are influencing the storyline, please be aware that I still consider her “my” character . . . but not without recognition that the adventure that awaits her in the arena has been influenced by you.) Everybody who participates in making decisions will be credited at the end of this work.

Here are a few notes:

  1. You are not required to participate in “choosing” the adventure. You are welcome to read (and comment) without making decisions. I love people’s thoughts and feedback. If nobody ends up participating, I’m flexible and can adjust as needed.
  2. The “Chapter 2” is a list of background information on the character, including her skills, weaknesses, and relationships. There is also information about the different characters with which she will be interacting. I will update this list as we go so that you can use it for reference. 
  3. Not every chapter will have “route choices,” but the ones that do will have the choices clearly marked at the end of the chapter.
  4. The goal of this is not to make it a competition but to tell a story. My plan is to use the route choice that is most popular, but that may change depending upon how many people end up participating, if somebody has a good argument, if I need to flip a coin, etc.
  5. When a decision is made, I will edit the route choices to reflect that voting is “closed.” This will give me time to write the next chapter.
  6. Bear in mind that the main character can die, and I will not shy away from killing her if the situation arises. This is the Hunger Games after all. That said, it is not my goal to kill her—merely to tell her story, whatever that may be. (I very rarely go into a story knowing what the outcome will be.)



Also, if you're joining us a little later in the story, you're still more than welcome to catch up and join in on helping choose the routes.

Alright, well. I hope this isn’t too weird of a set-up and that you enjoy reading it! As always, comments are appreciated.

* * *

# The Reaping

They’re going to be pissed at you, and you know it. You’re eighteen. Just one day shy of your nineteenth birthday. This is your last chance to volunteer, and you’re going to take it. You weren’t the one chosen to be this year’s volunteer, but Dorothy is only sixteen and she’s _damned stupid_. You know because you’ve seen her in training, and while she acts like she knows her stuff, she can’t get her head out of her ass long enough to take a good look at the world around her. Her father might be a peacekeeper and his status might have bought her position as volunteer, but your father is more influential. Once you make your voice heard, nobody is going to turn you away.

The morning air should be cool, but the thousands of kids packed into this amphitheater make it unbearably hot. You shift from foot to foot as you try not to sweat in your sandals. It would be a shame if you slipped and face-planted when you take your place on the stage.

The amphitheater was made nearly a hundred years ago but it was intended to hold a fraction of the kids it needs to hold. Back then the population was smaller. Now there are tens of thousands of eligible tributes—so many that most of them have to go to overflow areas. Because you’re older, you get the honor of being here in the amphitheater and not stuck out in a parking lot a few miles away.

Although you’re comfortable in the decision you’ve made, you can’t make yourself relax. You’ve intentionally found a place away from your friends because you knew they would try to hold you back. Not because they’re afraid that you’ll die but because they know that what you’re doing is technically wrong. You’ll be nineteen going into the arena—the oldest any tribute has been—and you’re taking the spot of the rightful volunteer. But those are all technicalities.

You barely hear the speeches. It’s all the same garbage they pitch year after year, so it’s not like there’s anything different here. Instead you squint in the bright sunlight and make out the shape of the victors sitting on stage. You’re familiar with each one of them. You’ve known all their names and their years of victory since you were a little kid. Next year, you’ll be sitting up with them.

You hope.

Finally the speeches draw to an end. Your heart thumps in your chest and echoes in your ears. You take a deep breath. If anyone in this place is prepared for the Hunger Games, it’s you. You’ve lived and breathed the arena since you were small. You’ve trained with the best. You know what to expect—or rather, that expecting anything is foolish.

The escort’s clear voice rings out through the speakers: “Our female tribute for the 147th Hunger Games is . . .”

You’ve rehearsed this a hundred times in your head, and yet it seems surreal that the time is actually here. The girls around you whisper and eye the podium eagerly as the escort’s hand sweeps through the bowl with thousands of names written on strips of paper. Although the official volunteer has already been chosen, they must go through the formalities of drawing out a tribute at random. Or at least they would be if it weren’t for you. Before the escort has the chance to get the words out, you stand up.

Your voice rings out throughout the amphitheater: “I volunteer!”

Everyone falls silent.

In District 2, everybody knows that the volunteer for the Hunger Games is chosen in advance—there’s no secret surrounding it. It’s part of protocol. The same protocol states that the volunteer must wait until the original tribute’s name is announced. It’s nothing that the Capitol enforces—it’s entirely District 2’s method of handling the situation when there’s thousands of kids vying for the position of tribute—but people don’t just go against these guidelines.

You push down the row of seats past other girls in your age group until you reach the aisle. And from there you walk down the steps, head held high, until you reach the stage. Nobody will dare take this moment away from you. Not Dorothy. Not her peacekeeper father. Not any of the other hundreds of kids who wished that they had the balls to stand up and break the volunteer rules and claim some other girl’s spot. Nobody would dare to say a single damned thing except, perhaps, your father—and right now, he isn’t in a position to argue. Because your father is standing in front of you on the stage staring you down, and he wouldn’t dare object to your decision while all eyes in Panem are focused on you.

You meet your father’s gaze and you stare right back. Your father, victor of the 118th Hunger Games, stands with the rest of his fellow victors, unflinching. But you know that despite the stoicism, those two simple words have killed him. So you turn away and climb up the steps to take your place near the escort.

“What’s your name, love?” the escort asks. She’s a short, fat woman with a tall, feathery hat that curls down around her head. She knows your name. Everyone here knows your name. Nobody in the entire district dares question who you are. But, of course, she asks not for their benefit but as a formality for the people in the Capitol.

“Obsidian Miltiades,” you reply. Your voice is calm and clear.

You were made for victory.

And yet, despite your bravado, when the boy is chosen and his volunteer situation dealt with, and you’re forced to shake his hand, you don’t dare look at your father again, not even out of the corner of your eye, because you know that he’s just barely holding it together.


	2. Background Information & Characters

# Character Information & Relationships

Information will be added as the story progresses.

Note: The reader is not expected to memorize this! It’s merely for background purpose and for entertainment. If you're not a fan of this sort of stuff, you can skim through it if you wish.

Obsidian

You are Obsidian Miltiades, female volunteer tribute of District 2. Although you are technically eighteen when you volunteer, you turn nineteen the following day—thus making you the oldest tribute in Hunger Games history.

You are the daughter of the 118th Hunger Games victor, Ferrer Miltiades. He is a careful man. Reserved. And in many ways you take after him. But what drives you to volunteer now is very different than what drove him to volunteer years ago. You don’t know a whole lot about Dad’s family except that all but one of his siblings died because of your grandparents’ desire to have a victorious child. Besides Dad, only one sibling made it to the arena. Your uncle’s death gave Dad a leg up in volunteering. That’s how it works in District 2—if your sibling dies, it increases the chances that you can volunteer in the future. Needless to say, Dad has cut his parents out of his life.

Dad trained you for the Hunger Games, but over time you realized that it wasn’t something he enjoyed doing. You thought that it was because you were his kid, but eventually you figured out that he hates the Hunger Games. He’s never said it to you, nor to anyone else. But you can tell easily enough. Maybe he lets his guard down near you, or maybe you’re just good at figuring this stuff out; you don’t know. But at this point, it’s so very obvious how much he detests it.

You will have to talk with him about why you volunteered sooner rather than later.

Obsidian’s Training History

**Weapon(s) of choice:** saber (various types)

 **Weapon proficiency:** knives, shorter/lighter swords, hand-to-hand combat

 **Survival skills:** hunting, shelter building, edible plants

 **Weaknesses:** heavier weaponry such as larger swords, maces, and morning stars; fishing, knots & snares

 **Years training:** approximately twelve years (since 7 years of age)

Dad never pushed you much to train, but you took it upon yourself to challenge yourself. Once you hit reaping age, you really got serious about it. Your grades wavered a bit, but nobody cared much, not when you were spending so much time to train for the Hunger Games. District 2 hasn’t had many wins recently, with the exception of Sapphire two years back.

Obsidian’s Family

**Ferrer** (47) – Father – Victor of the 118th Hunger Games. You have always looked up to him, even when you grew to learn that he’s not the hero that everyone thinks he is. He is a respectable man; quiet; devoted to his family. He has been training would-be tributes for the Hunger Games for as long as you can remember even though training is technically forbidden by the Capitol. You don’t know why he does it when he clearly doesn’t like it. He’s kept his dislike of his role hidden from you, but you’re not as stupid as he must think you are.

 **Hildred** (44) – Mother – She’s a kind person, but she’s always been busy running the house and taking care of the kids. There’s a lot of you, and though she’s never made you feel any less loved than your siblings, you don’t like that she expects you to help raise the younger ones. Hildred isn’t your biological mother, but when she married your father when you were a little kid, she raised you as her own. She’s “Mom” to you for all intents and purposes.

 **Flint** (20) – Brother – You and your older brother have always been close. Maybe it’s because you and him share the same biological mother, or maybe it’s just because you two are the oldest. Flint is serious. Reserved like your father. He recently moved out a few months ago, and once his place is ready, you were supposed to move in with him. Plans changed.

 **Obsidian (Sid)** (18/19) – You. Second oldest. Oldest girl.

 **Komatiite (Matty)** (16) – Brother – You have never met a faster runner than Matty. Everyone said that if he volunteered, no one would ever be able to catch him. You hope Matty doesn’t volunteer. He’s too good of a kid to be in a place like the arena. Unlike you.

 **Mica** (14) – Sister – Despite the fact that she’s the only girl about the same age as you, the two of you aren’t that close. It’s not that you don’t get along; you just have vastly different interests. Mica begged Dad to let her start training when she was five, and things have gone downhill since. She was talking about volunteering this year, so you broke her leg when you were sparring. She gave you a black eye and said she would never forgive you. But you know that she didn’t mean it. Well, about never forgiving you—she definitely meant to give you that black eye.

 **Agate** (11) – Brother – Sometimes the twins get forgotten in the chaos of the household, but Agate, the elder of the two, never lets people forget them for long. He has some aggression issues and normally turns on Onyx if he’s unable to express himself or be heard by others. Dad doesn’t train either twin for the Hunger Games. And you don’t blame him—your angry brother should not be trusted around weapons.

 **Onyx** (11) – Brother – Onyx might be less aggressive than his twin brother, but he’s no less reserved. He will not shut up. He _cannot_ shut up. There’s a never-ending stream of words flowing out of his mouth that won’t be stopped. Neither of the twins does well in school, but they might make Onyx repeat this year in school. Then again, they threaten him with this every year, and nothing happens. You hate when Mom makes you responsible for your twin brothers, whether it’s helping them with school or keeping an eye on them throughout the day.

 **Jasper** (8) – Brother – You’re a little disturbed by how much potential Jasper shows in his training. Although Dad tries to hold him back, he finds ways to train with bigger kids if nobody’s keeping a close eye on him. And, honestly, nobody’s ever keeping a close eye on him. Not in a family of nine kids.

 **Gemma** (5) – Sister – She’s having a bit of trouble not being the baby of the family anymore even though it’s been three years. But in some ways, she’s your favorite of all. She’d follow you around everywhere if you let her, but you don’t; no way you want her getting anywhere near a sharp sword.

 **Violet** (2) – Sister – You think that maybe your parents ran out of names on this one, but she’s still loved regardless. If only you weren’t expected to keep an eye on her 24/7 when you would much rather be training. You’re really hoping your parents find a new hobby and she’s the last kid they have.

District 2 Victors

You were raised the daughter of a victor, so you know your neighbors well enough. They all have their problems, even if they try to hide it. You know if you win, you’ll have your very own house where you can wallow in misery, too.

There was a sixteen-year gap between Butch’s victory in 128 and Sapphire’s victory in 144 in which there was no District 2 victory. It’s a little embarrassing for a Career district, but you have a lot of the non-Career victors to thank for that. You know that there’s quite a bit of politics that goes into the Hunger Games, and those politics influence who wins. You’re pretty certain that that has something to do with why Dad trains tributes under the table when he clearly doesn’t like it.

 **Sapphire** (20) – Victor of the 144th Hunger Games – She won just two years ago and put on a good show. She’s polite enough around you, but you suspect it might just be because if she says anything out of line, your dad will put her in her place. Not that you want your dad fighting all your battles for you—you’re more than capable of handling things just fine.

 **Butch** (37) – Victor of the 128th Hunger Games – It’s been awhile since “Uncle Butch” won the Hunger Games. They call him “The Butcher” for a damned good reason, too. Not that you’ve ever really admired his style of plowing through so many tributes (it lacks class, really), you like him well enough that you rarely think about his techniques. He can be crass, but not to you—it’s only what you overhear him say to others.

 **Freya** (42) – Victor of the 121st Hunger Games – She’s kind of aloof, but she doesn’t shy away from you. Sometimes she’s a bit too blunt with what she says, and she’s more than happy to point out an error in your training. You respect her for that, even when the things she says sting. She often has a lot of visitors to her house. You don’t know who they are. Once you asked Dad and he just told you to mind your own business.

 **Ferrer** (47) – Victor of the 118th Hunger Games

 **Vulcan** (53) – Victor of the 111th Hunger Games – He’s alright. He drinks a little too much, and he’s a little too crazy sometimes. Once you found him snorting coke in your bathroom when he came over for a dinner party. Dad hasn’t invited him back in since.

 **Alexis** (60) – Victor of the 104th Hunger Games – She was the cool one who let you call her by her first name when you were kids. Whenever you were having trouble with something at home, be it family, school, friends, or training, she always let you come to her and talk. Although you’ve always viewed her as “old,” you know that she’s not _that_ much older than Dad, at least not in the grand scheme of things.


	3. The Train, Pt I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First route choice at the end of this chapter. Let's see how this goes.

# The Train, Pt I

Your family comes to the Justice Building to say goodbye to you. There are so many siblings that they almost don’t all fit in the room, but they jam in anyhow. Mom and Flint say that they’re proud of you, but their eyes display a more honest view of their feelings on the matter. When Flint hugs you, he tells you that you’re a complete moron for volunteering. Matty says that you can totally do it and that he looks forward to seeing you join Dad on the stage next year. The other kids are pumped about your decision, and they clamor around you, trying to ask questions and give you advice. Even Mica, hobbling along on her crutches, cheers you on.

When they leave, you almost can’t breathe, like they left you behind in the coffin you very well may return in. But there comes a knock on the door, and you draw yourself together again.

It’s Dorothy. Of course.

“Hey, bitch,” she says as she saunters over. Her thick black hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. She wears a crisp, new dress. Even has her nails manicured. She was ready to claim her place.

“Can you leave and give me time to say goodbye to my actual friends?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your chest and staring her down.

“Umm, no,” she answers. “You took something from me, now I’m taking something from you.”

See? Her head is _completely_ up her ass.

“Maybe I should have let you volunteer,” you say. “Dying would probably knock some sense into you.”

She plops down in a large chair and runs her fingers across the leather armrest. “Now instead I get to watch you get killed on television,” she says with a sigh. “That’s too bad.”

You lower yourself into the chair across from her and sink down into the seat. One of the reasons that Dorothy was chosen to volunteer is because she’s so persistent. Once she sets her mind on something, she won’t give up. And since you humiliated her by taking her spot, you’re going to have to pay for it by having her waste all your time. But two can play this game. Your friends will be disappointed that they didn’t get to say goodbye, and surely Dorothy will start bragging this up in some manner like it was a great success on her part to shut your friends out. Anyway, that’s her deal, not yours.

The two of you spend the next thirty minutes staring each other down. When time runs out and the peacekeeper opens the door, she jumps to her feet. You stand up and stretch your limbs.

“Bye, Obsidian. I hope you’re as pretty dead as you are alive,” she says with a wink, and then she disappears out the door. The peacekeepers immediately march in, but you don’t put up a fight as they lead you out of the room and down the hall in the opposite direction that Dorothy has gone. From there they load you into a car, and then you’re taken to the train station.

Dad paces back and forth, hand covering his mouth as he thinks. He turns to look at you and your District partner, Stoney, as you enter the train car behind Garbanza, the escort. The hand drops away from his mouth and he straightens up. You know that if these other people weren’t here, he’d be chewing you out right here and now. But instead he only looks at the three of you as you step inside.

The train car is beautiful. It’s not like any train you’ve ever been on, not even some of the nice ones they send Dad to take him around the district for various events. Everything gleams, from the polished wood to the brass door handles. But you’re not here to admire the architecture and décor of this train car. No, you have more important business to attend to.

Your district partner, Stoney, has been trained by Freya. He’s eighteen. Tall. Muscular. Dark skin and brown eyes. He’s handsome. But more importantly, he’s deadly. Excellent with swords, but also a good shot with the bow. He excels in strategy and is quite clever.

Besides Dad, there are three other victors: Butch, Freya, and Alexis. You know all of them pretty well, and if you speak up now, you can claim whichever one you want to be a mentor. Nobody will turn you down because they’ll have to deal with your father. Butch is more of a blunt-force kind of guy. He’ll barrel through things without regard to what destruction is left behind—both in and out of the arena. Freya is much more cunning; it doesn’t surprise you that she and Stoney work out well with each other. If you choose her as your mentor, it might throw Stoney off; on the flipside, you don’t know where Freya’s loyalties lie at this point. And then there’s Alexis, with whom you’ve always been friends. She’s much older than you, but she’s always been kind and a good listener.

Although there are other District 2 victors, it looks like this is it. You could, of course, always ask Dad to mentor you. You know he’d hate it—as would you—but he knows you the best of all, and he understands your skills and weaknesses better than any of the other victors. This will likely give you the best shot at victory. Then again, if you die, he’ll never forgive himself.

**Route Option: Which victor do you choose to mentor you?**

a) Choose Dad (Ferrer)  
b) Choose Butch  
c) Choose Freya  
 _d) Choose Alexis_ {route chosen}  



	4. The Train, Pt II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for participating, guys! I ended up settling the three-way tie with a dice roll. (Or actually a random number generator.)

# The Train, Pt II

Garbanza flutters her hands at you and Stoney to make sure that you step far enough into the train car so that she can move by you. When she comes around in front, she puts a smile on her doughy face and clasps her hands in front of her.

“Welcome to the District 2 train,” she says. “Here your journey to the Hunger Games will begin. Our first stop is the Remake Center.”

She goes on to babble about how wonderful of an experience this will be, and that she is thrilled that we have the opportunity to enjoy the luxuries of the Capitol during your stay. You don’t tell her that the luxuries mean nothing to you, not when they’re built on blood and lies. No, you aren’t the typical Career who is mesmerized by the charm of the Capitol. You glance at Stoney who looks around with admiration at your temporary home away from home—he isn’t like you. Not at all. His entire life has been built around winning the Hunger Games, and this is a taste of what he has been promised after he emerges victorious from the arena. You allow your eyes to linger on him for a moment more before you turn back to the escort.

“Now comes the time for mentoring!” Garbanza says as she turns and extends her smile towards the four victors who sit about the room. They stare back at her solemnly. You don’t know if this is how they normally treat the escort, or if the complication you’ve added to the situation has left them uneasy.

“I will be mentoring Stoney,” Freya says. She looks at your fellow tribute, and he nods back. You could speak up and say that you want Freya to be your mentor, but you leave well enough alone. Freya has always treated you decently, but her general detachment from you—from anyone, really—leaves you doubting that she’d give you the shot you deserve if you stole her away from Stoney. And honestly, you’ve already done enough theft today as it is; no need to earn yourself a reputation.

“Ferrer, no doubt you’d like to mentor your daughter,” Garbanza says.

Your dad hesitates. His golden brown eyes drift away from the escort for the briefest of seconds, and it’s in that moment that you make your decision.

Dad trained you since you were a kid. He was the one who originally put the sword in your hand. You remember how he smiled at you when you completed your first fight against a kid two years older than you. You didn’t win, but you held your ground and didn’t back down. But you also remember that in that smile was something else. You couldn’t place it at the time, but you know now that it was something akin to regret or sadness. Your father hates the Hunger Games. He has never once uttered a thing about it to you, but he doesn’t need to. You might have eight brothers and sisters, but you and your older brother have always been closer to Dad than the others have been; you can read his expressions well enough by now to know that they don’t always match up with the words he’s speaking. He hates the Hunger Games, he hates that he’s a part of them, and he hates that he has had to train you. Dad cannot mentor you. It would break him apart, even well before you step food into the arena. Watching you struggle through the next few weeks—if you live that long—will tear him to pieces, but it will be even worse if you add to his sense of responsibility of you. You love your dad, and you cannot do that to him.

That leaves Butch and Alexis. This is a no-brainer. Butch is alright, but his style isn’t anything you’ve ever admired. He’d do his job just fine, you have no doubt about that. However, mentoring requires more than just a few tasks to be completed—he has to have the drive to want you to succeed. Butch wouldn’t want you to fail, but you’re not sure that he’d see you as anything different than any other tribute.

Alexis, on the other hand, has always regarded you fondly, and you have done the same. She won the 104th Hunger Games and has been around for many, many years. Whenever you’ve struggled with something, be it training or family or friends, you’ve been able to turn to her. She might not know which weapons you excel with or what style you use when you get your favorite sword in your hand, but she knows how your brain works, and that’s more valuable than simply knowing how many sparring matches you’ve won and lost.

So you stand up straight and turn to Alexis, “You mentored my dad. I would like to ask you to mentor me, if it is not an inconvenience.”

You don’t look at Dad. You don’t want to know if he’ll be relieved or hurt by your decision.

Alexis smiles at you. The fine lines around her eyes crease as her lips turn up. You could have chosen any of the others, but you value her wisdom and experience. And what you said is true: Alexis mentored your father when he went to the Hunger Games, and that in and of itself is important. You know you’re asking a lot from her, but she nods.

“I’d be honored, Obsidian,” she says.

“Well, wonderful,” Garbanza says. She turns to Stoney and you. “Now, because we are so close to the Capitol and the other districts are so very far away, this train will give us a scenic tour to keep us on schedule. There is no need to arrive to the Capitol _too_ early. In the meantime, there is plenty of food and drink, and of course lots of time to talk with your mentors.”

She leads you over to a table and has you sit down. The other victors follow and take their seats.

Stoney sits across from you. He smiles, but there’s something uneasy in the way his lips draw back to expose his teeth. He reaches out and snatches a cookie off a tiered tray of sweets. His eyes never leave you, and you know that he’s trying to unnerve you. That won’t work. You might not know him on a personal level, but he’s been around Freya enough that you’ve seen the way he fights. And you have heard her talk with Dad about him. If she had known you’d volunteer, she probably would have guarded her conversations a little more closely. But neither you nor any of your siblings have ever shown interest in signing up for the volunteer positions, with the exception of Mica.

Garbanza and the victors begin chatting. Mostly it’s Garbanza. She gives them all updates about what’s going on in the Capitol recently—everything from news to gossip to politics. None of it concerns you, but you listen carefully and watch the others’ reactions.

Dad occasionally glances at you, but otherwise he pretends to be engaged in the conversation with the escort. He does a good job of faking that everything is okay; there are only little gives in his body language that tell you how he’s really feeling. The twitch of a finger that he covers up by moving his hand to pour himself a mug of coffee, an intermittent tic of his eyelid, the cold glances in your direction. Really, he’s handling things pretty well, at least for the cameras. Good ol’ supportive Dad just happy as can be to get his daughter prepped for a death match.

Alexis, on the other hand, doesn’t make an effort to pretend she’s not watching you. It would be irritating, except it’s part of her job to understand her tribute as much as possible. You don’t give her much to go on, but she doesn’t need a lot. She stirs cream into her coffee and listens to Garbanza, occasionally asking a question or keeping the woman talking.

Finally Freya stands up.

“Stoney. Let’s get started,” she says to him. Her voice is calm and distant, like she’s somehow able to put up a barrier between herself and the kid she’s been assigned to take to his death. She turns to Garbanza and says, “We will be back to watching the remainder of the reaping.”

Your district partner stands up and follows his mentor out of the room. The moment they disappear, you can breathe a little easier. But whatever weight that lifted off your lungs when they walked through the door only returns and multiplies itself tenfold when you see your father staring at you. Without a word, he stands up and leaves. When he has stepped out of the car, you turn to Alexis.

“If you don’t mind,” I say. “I’m going to take a break.”

She nods at you. Confusion briefly touches Garbanza’s expression before she continues on with her story. Butch crosses his arms over his chest and watches you knowingly.

The thing is, you’ve known all these victors your entire life, but you haven’t really _known_ them. And your dad’s reserved behavior only emphasizes the fact that none of them can truly be trusted. Butch can easily enough repeat a conversation to Freya, who in turn could use it to help Stoney. So any conversations of more personal nature must be guarded carefully.

You stand up and leave the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're going to have a few chapters here without much of a choice because tributes don't get too much option when it comes to the parade and the like.


	5. The Train, Pt III

# The Train, Pt III

“Sid, what the hell are you doing?” Dad asks the moment you are behind closed doors. You glance around the small room at the crisp bedsheets pulled tightly around the mattress, the elegant chair carved from the finest wood, the plush rug that makes the transition from the bed to the bathroom more luxurious. This is Dad’s room, but not a single thing about it indicates that he has ever stepped foot in this place before. You wonder if he gets the same car every time he goes to the Capitol with his tributes, or if they are all interchangeable.

Dad’s angry. He looks calm, but he’s not. His body tenses as he waits for your answer, and his sharp eyes never leave you. That’s the sort of anger he has, though it’s rarely ever been focused on you. The fact that you’re the subject of his quiet fury nearly sweeps the wind from your lungs. But you manage to remain composed, if only just barely.

“You don’t want me following in your footsteps?” you ask him calmly.

“No, I don’t,” he says evenly, and you know that this room is clean. You’ve never heard your father utter those words before, and he wouldn’t dare say anything if there was any chance in hell that the car was bugged. There’s something beautiful about the fact that he’s given you these traitorous words that he holds so closely to him.

You nod.

And now it’s time for you to admit your own truths.

“Dad, Flint is too old for the Hunger Games. He never put his name onto the volunteer list. It is my last year, and I haven’t even tried to volunteer, either. It is Matty’s fourth year eligible, and he has not once shown interest,” you say carefully. You practiced saying this to him in your head a hundred times, never once daring to speak these words out loud. They weren’t yours to know, at least not yet, and you aren’t sure how much trouble you’d be in if anyone knew that you had them. “That’s six years each for Flint and me, and four years for Matty—and no effort to volunteer.”

He studies you without a word. You’re not certain if he really understands what you’re trying to say, so you continue.

“I have heard that it isn’t good for a victor who has so many children to not have any who are interested in the Hunger Games,” you say.

“From whom did you hear this?” Dad asks.

You shrug. “Does it matter?”

“Sid, if you made this decision based on an unreliable source—”

“It’s reliable enough,” you tell him.

You can’t reveal your source right now. You’ll have to at some point because if you don’t make it out alive, you should at least make sure that your dad has the information he needs. But it’s irrelevant for this conversation.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he warns.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” you ask as you pick up a small paperweight from his desk. You turn it over in your hands before looking back at him. “I’m here, and there’s no way anyone can undo this.”

Dad rubs his eyes and sighs. You’ve disappointed him. That’s somehow worse than upsetting him. But you’ve made your decision, and you need to stand by it no matter what unwanted feelings that causes. Still, you can’t just let your dad think that you’re a complete moron for deciding to kill yourself for other people’s fun.

“I know what happened to my mother,” you say softly. Dad looks up at you, and he searches your face. You continue, “My biological mother, I mean. I know that she didn’t die on accident.”

He never told you this. His story—which is to some extent the truth—was that she went for a routine surgery and something went wrong. She died on the operating table. There’s always risks with anesthesia, though it’s so, so low; almost impossible that a healthy twenty-something-year-old woman like her would die from something so dumb. But she did, and you never questioned it. Not until you had a few other kernels of information dropped in front of your nose, and you began to see that things aren’t always what they are made out to be.

“No, she didn’t,” he admits.

“They killed her to punish you,” you gently prod. That’s the extent of you knowledge on the situation, and you admit that it has made you curious. You can’t say that you’re angry that your mother died—which is probably messed up, but you also never knew the woman who died when you were an infant—but there’s a certain loathing of the Capitol that creeps up as you watch your father struggle to maintain his composure. Such a ridiculous punishment to kill one’s loved ones. But that’s the life of a victor, and you know Dad is far from the only one who has suffered this way.

“I didn’t want to train tributes,” he says heavily. “I told them no. And that was my punishment.”

Sick. But that explains why he was so devoted to something he hated.

You set down the paperweight and turn back to him.

“They were going to send Matty or Mica to the Hunger Games next year if no one volunteered this year,” you explain. “Make them the volunteer against their will because none of your kids ever showed interest in volunteering. They doubted your loyalty.”

“So you volunteered to make sure that they wouldn’t have to,” he says.

“Yes,” you say. “I just . . . Mica wants to go, but she’s too young. And Matty would just get killed; he’s too nice to be in the arena. But I have a chance. I’m good, Dad—I know that you never wanted to train me, but you taught me well.”

Matty’s too good of a human being to be in the arena. He’s a sweet boy. The sort of person people love to be around. Respectful of adults, peers, children. A role model to your younger siblings that neither you nor Flint could ever be, no matter how hard you may try. And Mica is too hot-headed. She needs to learn to cool down a bit before she can tackle something like the Hunger Games.

“That I did,” he says. “But there aren’t many legacy victors, and I’m not sure they’ll be eager for another one a year after Avalon won.”

Avalon Vitner of District 1 followed her two older sisters to victory last year; you met her at the victory tour a few months ago, and she was nice enough. You’ve gathered from the things Dad says that she’s not quite mentally stable, which is surprising given that normally the Career victors are better at dealing with the traumas of the arena compared to the non-Career victors. Just goes to show how damned messed up this entire thing is that people—yourself included—expect the Careers to deal with mass murder better than other tributes. Anyway, she handled herself well enough all things considered, though her older sisters rarely left her side.

So will the Capitol be eager to accept another tribute who follows a family member to victory? Especially one that won’t likely break Avalon’s record nine kills?

You’d be lying if you said that this doesn’t trouble you.

“I can do this, Dad,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

He smiles ruefully at you. “I know.”

And you can. You _will_. You will show the Capitol that your family is not shying away from the Hunger Games. You don’t care about pride or honor. You only care about keeping your family safe. And if this is what it takes to ensure that your siblings aren’t going to be forced into the arena, then you’ll do it. Because you have a chance. Because if you fail, your siblings will be even more likely to volunteer.

Dad hugs you, and you don’t shy away as you normally do.


	6. Reaping Recap

# Reaping Recap

You initially watch the reaping with everyone else—Alexis, Dad, Freya, Stoney, Butch, and Garbanza—but after spending time with Alexis for mentoring, the two of you retreat to your room to re-watch the reaping privately where you can make notes about the various tributes.

You start first with District 1:

 **Peaceful** (17) appears to be anything but what her name implies. Her malicious sneer masqueraded as a smile might fool others, but it gives a good glimpse into the fact that she is not the sort to be trusted. Of course, she’s a Career, so you’ll have to get along with her long enough until one or the other of you kill each other.

 **Jeremy** (18) is muscular and confident, but despite the smile on his face, you can tell that he’s more reserved than your usual Career victor. He’s also a lot leaner than most Career males.

Then you move on to District 2:

 **You** (18) really capture the attention of the cameras. The Hunger Games announcer, Janice Lovely, has to explain to the audiences not familiar with District 2 that you were not the original volunteer. It’s doubtful that anyone not from a Career district—even the Capitolites watching from home—really understand what that means.

“That’s going to have to be something we address,” Alexis says. “You’re going to need to show the Capitol viewers that you broke the customs because you wanted to go to the Hunger Games badly and not because you have no respect for protocol—we’ll work out the details.”

 **Stony** (18) knows what he’s doing—both as a volunteer and as a competitor who has been trained for this position. With a smile, he reassures everyone that he is the one to keep an eye on—not you—and that he’s someone they can trust. You know it’s a lie, but it’s not like you’re going to waste your breath trying to tell anyone this.

District 3:

 **Cathode** (16) is a small, thin girl who you’d guess hasn’t ever looked at a weapon in her life. Tears roll down her cheeks, but she holds her head high as she goes to take her place. Mad respect to her for holding herself together.

 **Jarvis** (15) is big-boned and clumsy. He nearly trips over his own feet, but fortunately makes it up the stage. You know that he’ll immediately be a target for the other Careers: someone who they’ll see as not being competition at all and fair game to torment because he’s fat and awkward.

District 4:

 **Pacifica** (18) will easily turn heads—warm brown skin, gleaming white smile, great figure. She has stage presence and class. Her movements are graceful and each step she takes she does with elegance.

 **Murray** (18) pumps his fist when he is chosen as volunteer. The female tribute doesn’t expect this level of enthusiasm because there’s a flicker of hesitation when they’re asked to shake hands, but she recovers and handles it well.

District 5:

 **Proton** (14) is absolutely miserable. You don’t want to watch this little girl sob as the peacekeepers lead her up to the stage, but you also can’t turn away, either. It makes you sick to know that there is not one single person in District 5 who is willing to take this kid’s place. Sure people might not like volunteering, but there must be _someone_.

 **Spark** (15) can barely walk up to the stage. The peacekeepers need to keep telling him to walk, but he looks like he might dissolve into a puddle.

The reaping sickens you. You hate watching it, and yet there’s something so interesting about observing the reactions from the various tributes. It tells you so much about them and how they handle pressure in the face of certain death.

District 6:

 **Petrol** (17) stares at the ground as she takes her place at the stage. But she walks confidently.

 **Tire** (16) needs to be pulled out of the crowd manually. His friends cling to him as though they can hold him away from the peacekeepers who grab onto his arms and shoulders.

District 7:

 **Acacia** (15) leaves behind a crying friend. Or maybe a sister; they look enough alike with their brown eyes and dimpled cheeks.

 **Beech** (18) spaces out completely and appears to just be going through the motions. At some point, he’ll wake up and the horror will dawn on him.

District 8:

 **Tartan** (15) sobs openly as she walks up to the stage. She’s a thin girl who looks like she’s barely older than twelve; the Careers will be gunning for her early on so that they can get her out of the way.

 **Rayon** (13) vomits on the kid next to him before the peacekeepers pull him away. He won’t be able to live that down. You don’t think that District 8 will last very long this Hunger Games.

District 9:

 **Maize** (17) huddles with her friends as though her escort will change her mind and call out a different name. But it doesn’t happen, and after the third time her name is spoken, she leaves the comfort of her fellow seventeen-year-olds and walks towards the stage.

 **Malt** (16) pushes his way through the group, stomps down the aisle, and takes his place next to his district partner. He doesn’t look at her but just glowers at the crowd in front of him.

District 10:

 **Lamb** (16) is a tall girl—maybe 5’7” or 5’8”—and doesn’t look a single thing like the soft creature she’s named after. She has a large, powerful frame. You think that if she can hold a weapon, she might be someone you’ll have to watch out for.

 **Dakota** (18) has probably been working since he was a young teenager judging by the muscles. He looks strong. Heavy, too—he might not be able to run, but you can never judge based on appearance alone. You will need to keep your eye on both from District 10.

District 11:

 **Peach** (15) might be fifteen or she might be eighteen. She looks much more mature than the age that’s displayed under her name on screen. Both physically and by her mannerisms. You might want to see what she can do, but you’ll have to remember that she may not be as mature as she looks.

 **Grove** (16) is tall and lanky. He’s at least 6’0” from what you can see from here, but he doesn’t have much meat on his frame. If he can run, he might be able to clear away from the bloodbath, but if he isn’t able to use a weapon, he’s not going to last long.

District 12:

 **Bonnie** (17) shuffles towards the stage, head down and hair falling into her face. She looks like the sort of girl who buries herself in a book and ignores the girls at school making fun of her. But you can’t just assume that; it could be an act she’s putting on to make people think she’s weaker than she is. That’s been known to happen before.

 **Ore** (15) is a grim sort of kid, like he just emerged from the mines and scrubbed the top layer of dirt from his skin. But you doubt that a scrap of a kid like him has ever done a day of hard labor underground. Still, he might pick your pocket if you’re not careful.

Once you have watched through the reaping, Alexis asks you about your opinion of each tribute, so you tell her your thoughts about each one. Although you trust your mentor, you also know that you can’t just spill out your first reaction; everything you say must have a purpose because you only have so much time to talk. Your mentor nods as you speak, occasionally asking you questions.

Then you watch through the reaping a third time, but now Alexis pauses the video intermittently to point out her observations: how Jeremy of District 1 may look like a run-of-the-mill Career, but in order to be chosen as volunteer, he needs to have some damned good skills; how Cathode of District 3 manages to hold herself together despite being upset; how Murray of District 4 keeps glancing over his shoulder as he’s walking towards the stage, which indicates that he might not be as confident as he pretends to be once he’s standing up on the platform next to his escort. Some of these things you had noticed, while others you had overlooked. But Alexis has plenty of experience and a keen eye. She says that Proton of District 5 is genuinely crying, but Tartan of District 8 may be trying to mislead everyone, and then she explains how she can tell between the real crying and the sort that’s amplified to make a scene.

You are thankful that you have chosen Alexis as a mentor and that she is willing to mentor you. After you discuss the reaping, she inquires about your fighting styles, the weapons you use, the areas in which you struggle. You spend the better part of the afternoon discussing this with her, and then you pick up again after dinner.


	7. Tribute Parade

# Tribute Parade

Everyone wishes you happy birthday throughout the day, but aside from the various Capitolites wishes, it’s said with trepidation. You are now officially nineteen years old and shouldn’t be going to the Hunger Games. But you took advantage of a technicality: since you were eighteen yesterday, you were required to sit with the rest of the eighteen year olds, which means that you were eligible for reaping. If they didn’t want to give you the option of volunteering because you’d be “too old” by the time you went to the arena, then they shouldn’t have required you to be with the rest of the kids at the reaping. Case closed. But you’ve really brought attention to yourself, and there’s no way that it won’t come up again.

You know what to expect at the Remake Center, but despite that, you’re not prepared enough for this. You don’t mind that they speak to you like you’re a pet because you’re okay treating them with cold indifference, but the way they have no concern for your modesty bothers you. Sure, you’ve gone skinny dipping in the lake with your friends a time or two, but this is different. These are strangers who order you about and remove your clothes and touch you, all without blinking an eye like it’s totally normal to strip teenagers without their permission. You suppose it is. Just another reminder that the Hunger Games are a joke. Still, you accept that this is part of the process and you pretend like they should be _honored_ to work with you. You say very little besides giving them a few bits of dialogue to keep them from thinking you are devoid of personality.

“Your father must be so proud of you,” one of the prep team members, Eclipse, says to you as she runs a soapy sponge across your arm. Her other hand clasps onto your wrist to make sure that your limb remains outstretched while she gives it a good scrub.

“Of course he is,” you say to her with a touch of irritation to indicate that her comment is trivial. Of _course_ he is. There’s nothing he wants more than to have his child follow in his footsteps and murder or be murdered.

“You look just like him,” says another, Samuella.

Now she’s just trying to flatter you. You thank her even though it couldn’t be further from the truth. Dad is tall with medium-light skin and golden brown eyes. He keeps in shape, but he doesn’t train like you do. You’re smaller—maybe 5’3” if you stood up to your full height—and a little darker and more solidly built. You have the sort of figure that will require your stylist to work overtime to create something that doesn’t make you look like the little trained killer you are. Your hair is dark brown and your eyes equally so. No, you look like your biological mother, though no one in the Capitol would admit that even if they remembered her.

They continue with their job. It’s not too hard. You had your legs waxed before you left the district, and you keep yourself in good shape. You know that you’re a step above most tributes because the prep team chatters about some of the past tributes they’ve worked with from various districts over the years and how horrible some of them “treated themselves.” In other words, they didn’t go through excessive beauty routines before being hauled to the Capitol to die, and the prep teams had to pick up the slack.

“Obsidian, you are truly victor material,” Eclipse mutters as she removes the towel from around your neck and gives you her hand to take. You do, and then she leads you to the mirror.

You look more or less how you normally do, but something is a touch different. Everything suits you. You’re so basic—no makeup, no fancy clothes—and yet you shine. They’ve fixed your eyebrows, your hair, and your nails all to enhance your appearance. Your skin is bright and fresh. Everything about you looks healthy and vibrant.

For the first time, you smile. Then you turn to your prep team members and thank them for their hard work. They give you embarrassed smiles and insist that you were just a wonderful tribute to work with and they look forward to working more with you in the future. Then they lead you to a room to wait for your stylist. Naked, of course, because that’s how you meet people in the Capitol when you’re a lowly tribute.

Your stylist is a woman named Pate who gushes over you the moment she lays eyes on you.

“It is such an _honor_ to work with Ferrer’s daughter,” she exclaims. “He must be so proud of you!”

You realize that’s something you’re going to hear over and over.

“Yes he is. And he has spoken highly of your work,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie but definitely isn’t the full truth. Your dad doesn’t give a rat’s ass about stylists’ work, but he did once mention that Pate wasn’t the worst one out there which is pretty much a compliment as far as these things go.

Pate pats your cheek. “We are going to have so much fun together.”

And then she proceeds to put you in a dress of mottled greys with pink and pearl undertones. When the light catches it just right little flecks of color gleam.

“I was inspired by the granites of your district,” she says as you turn around in the mirror to admire it. It’s not the worst thing, but you doubt that it’ll really catch anyone’s eye on its own. She then lays a thick necklace around your neck laden with chunks of granite, and gives you a matching bracelet and earrings. It makes you look like a talus pile, but honestly it’s better than you expected it would be.

Then it’s time for the parade itself. Pate leads you out of the room and down to the chariot that awaits you. She stays by your side until Stoney appears. He’s wearing a suit with chunks of minerals around the lapel and cuffs. You don’t think the Capitol will be able to see unless they zoom in on him. It makes him look unimpressive, but you tell him that it looks nice on him, which isn’t a lie. He could probably get away with wearing anything and still look good.

Once everyone is settled, the chariots lurch forward. You stand up straight and brace yourself for public humiliation. Not your first nor your last for the time you’ll be in the Capitol. The District 2 chariot passes through the doors into the road that leads from the Remake Center to the circle. Thousands of people cheer from the bleachers set up on either side. Large screens broadcast images of the tributes. You keep your head up and you give the Capitolites moderate attention. You glimpse at the images every now and again and see some of the tributes desperately fanning their arms as though the more frantically they wave, the more likely the citizens will be to sponsor them. Others cling to the chariot and stare around them with wide eyes. You, on the other hand, keep your chin up and “grace” the audience with your attention in small increments. You’re not withdrawn, but you don’t _need_ them.

Then there’s the usual meaningless speech, and you are then taken away to the Training Center where you’ll spend the remainder of the week.

Dad’s tried to describe the Training Center to you, but his words never did it justice. After you drink in your fill both of the outside of the massive building and the regal lobby, you recognize that any honest attempts to put this place into words would come across as though he were painting a fantastical picture. And if he didn’t want you and your siblings to be lured in by the lies of the Capitol, then he certainly didn’t want to make the Training Center sound enticing.

“Welcome to the Capitol, loves,” Garbanza says as she waves you and Stoney into the apartment. The small hoard of victors trails in after you, but you forget all about Dad as you take in your new home. From here you see the dining room table large enough to fit all of you and then some; foods and drinks weigh it down. Then there’s a television room whose screen takes up almost the entire wall. Ample seating is provided so everyone can choose a spot on the couches and relax together. Not that you expect to be doing much relaxing here. You notice the silent avoxes waiting in various places throughout the apartment; they all have their eyes on the floor, but they are observing you just as much as you are observing them.

Garbanza takes you and Stoney to your rooms and tells you that once you freshen up, it’ll be time for dinner. So you take her word for it and slip into your room. Then you lock the door behind you and scan the bedroom they have given you. It’s cold. Not temperature-wise, but in terms of décor. Everything is impersonal. The bed frame is roughly-carved stone. The light fixtures are stone. The wardrobe and dresser are wood, but with little stone accent pieces on it. At least you’ll never be confused that you might be in the wrong floor. . . .

After you shower, you return to the common area where you take a seat at the table with the others. They’re talking about the parade, and people toss in their observations about the various tributes. You remain quiet and take in their words. Stoney makes himself comfortable with the group of victors and chats easily enough with them. You’re not sure what his tactic is, but you suppose it’s reasonable that he’d want to warm up to the others. After all, he might think that he’s playing at a disadvantage since you grew up with these people.

The Hunger Games have already begun. And you know that if you become victor, they will never end. But you knew that going in, and it’s not like it deterred you from the choice you made.


	8. Training Day 1, Pt I

# Training Day 1, Pt I

There are three days to train, and you need to make every one of them count. You and Stoney show up at the underground training facility and join the others who have arrived so far. Although you’re not eager to spend time with the other Careers, you know that it’s your job now and you can’t let them think you’re above them. Somehow you’ll have to fit in with them, even though they eye you carefully.

You and Stoney stroll up to the others. Peaceful and Jeremy of District 1 and Pacifica and Murray of District 4. Like you, they wear their standard issued uniforms of black with yellow accents. It’s comfortable and allows free movement so that you won’t be hindered when you show off what you know.

“Can we assume that the Career pack is happening this year?” Jeremy asks.

“Yes, of course,” Stoney replies easily.

But he’s not the one they want the answer from. The others look over at you. Because without you, it would have been just another Career pack. Standard. Yet you have thrown a wrench into the mix.

Daughter of a victor.

How are they going to handle this? They likely won’t turn on you early because that was a tactic used in the recent past with another group of Careers, but that’s not a guarantee. Will they cling to you and use your fame to bring them sponsorships and potentially keep them safe from muttations and events?

Before you can reply, the lead trainer calls everyone together. She introduces herself and then goes over the purpose of the Training Center. You half listen as you take in the group of kids before you, all dressed in their issued uniforms and no longer dolled up for the reaping. Some of them tremble visibly while others manage to hold themselves together just fine—at least outwardly.

_You’re going to have to kill some of them._

You swallow hard. That’s not a thought you want to have right now when you’re standing here watching their faces as they take in the information the trainer tells them, but it’s something you’re going to have to come to terms with pretty damned fast. If you want to live, they have to die.

You’re here because you’re trying to save your family. But in the process, you must kill innocent kids. Telling yourself that they would have died regardless of who volunteered for the District 2 female slot doesn’t ease the anxiety in your stomach.

The trainer dismisses the group, and now you have a decision to make. You can train with the Careers and get to know them better, or you could scout out the other tributes and see what you’re dealing with there. On one hand, if you spend the morning with the other Careers, you can get to know them better and understand the dynamics. But on the other, you know that they’ll never really accept you, so it might be more beneficial to show them that you can think outside the box and bring critical information about the other tributes into your Career alliance.

**Route Option: Which tactic do you choose?**

a) Start the morning with the other Careers _{route chosen}_  
b) Start the morning observing the non-Careers


	9. Training Day 1, Pt II

# Training Day 1, Pt II

Everybody knows you’re a Career, and the other tributes aren’t going to open up to anyone, especially not you. There’s no great benefit to leaving the pack so early. You head off with the Careers and over to the weapon stations.

Your weapon of choice is the saber. A nice, shorter sword that’s lightweight and slices through the air with ease—none of the heavier ones that you have to use with two hands. The other Careers will know this, especially Stoney, so there’s no use in pretending that it’s not your strength. That’s what happens when you’re famous. You already know what Stoney’s specialties are—though you don’t doubt that he might have a trick or two up his sleeve—but you have no clue what the other Careers have trained in.

This is the hard part. You want to show your allies that you are talented, but you also don’t want them to turn against you. You could play dumb and pretend that you are not as good as you are, but you also know that they’d likely never fall for that, particularly Stoney. So you decide that you will show them your saber skills and feign ignorance in all of the other non-weaponry aspects. That will give you the chance to observe the other tributes while you “learn” fire building and first aid. But you’re going to also have to pretend that you _aren’t_ terrible in those other stations because then you’re outing yourself as a weak member of this alliance. So you’re going to pretend like you’re bad while pretending like you’re good.

You and your allies spend the better part of the morning swinging around weapons. But while the other non-Career tributes are scrambling to learn vital skills, the point of the Training Center for you Careers is not to fill in gaps in your knowledge but to figure out the dynamics of the alliance. There are six of you, and each one of you believes that he or she is the one who will make it home alive.

The District 4 girl, Pacifica, is highly charismatic, and you find yourself drawn to her. She doesn’t put down the others, but you can tell she thinks you’re different—more capable—than the others in your alliance, and you notice that she often directs her questions and comments to you even when she’s talking to the whole group. You’re not even sure if she notices what she’s doing, and it kind of flatters you, even if you have no desire to be the unofficial group leader.

You’re not the only one who notices this, even if Pacifica herself has no clue. Peaceful, the District 1 girl, keeps shooting the two of you looks throughout the morning, and as time goes on, she does little to hide her contempt. This will quickly unravel into an uneasy alliance if you don’t do something about it. But since you’re still trying to figure out what the hell everybody else is doing here—what they’re _really_ doing here, why they volunteered—you don’t feel comfortable confronting either of the tributes about this tension.

Peaceful drops a morning star and nearly impales her own foot. She moves out of the way just in time—quick reflexes, you note—but it’s thrown her off. She tries to pretend that it’s no big deal even when she becomes short with everyone.

“Do you want to come with me to work on the spears?” you ask her.

“No, I _don’t_ want to come with you,” she snaps. The others freeze for a second and look at her. She throws her hands in the air and stalks away towards the knife-throwing station.

“I’ll come,” Stoney says, and so you let him accompany you to the spears. You had been hoping that Peaceful would agree to spend time with you so that you could perhaps mend whatever uneasiness exists between you, but you can’t say you’re surprised she turned you down. So you and Stoney spend half an hour throwing spears. He’s better at it than you are, which isn’t a great surprise since you’ve seen him handle a spear very well in training.

After awhile, he says, “What do you think of the others?”

“I’m still deciding,” you answer. “What about you?”

He shrugs and heaves up a spear in his hand. His fingers clasp the pole and he hoists it up over his shoulder. You watch his muscles move beneath the tight fabric of his shirt as he draws his arm back and thrusts it forward to let the spear fly towards its target.

The spear embeds itself firmly into the dummy.

“I think you have made somebody jealous,” he says.

“Hmm,” you respond. Maybe you have, but that’s not your problem.

What is your problem, however, is that when you and Stoney meet up with the others, Peaceful is outright ignoring you and that’s not going to bode well for your group if you inadvertently cause a rift in your Career pack. You hold back and listen as she bosses around her district partner and the pair from District 4. Nobody likes her behavior, but it’s too early to start telling people off.

“After lunch, I’m going to check out the other tributes,” you say to the others.

“Right, like they’re going to want to have you hanging around them,” says Jeremy with a laugh.

But Peaceful isn’t having any of his humor. She turns on you. “So you’re leaving us to our own devices so that you can do what? Turn the others against us?”

You arch an eyebrow and look at her. The other tributes already _are_ against the whole lot of you. But Peaceful is being unreasonable, and you’re not sure that there’s any use explaining.

Yet she continues, “You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” She gets into your face, standing several inches taller than you, but still trying to draw herself up to a formidable height. You’d laugh if you weren’t so aware of how critical it is to play nice right now. But then she says, “When my knife is in your throat, you dad won’t be able to save you.”

That’s not cool. You feel the anger within you, but you suppress it so you can think clearly. Right now, you need to make a decision. It’s going to be a very long Prep Week with this idiot, and you know how easily Career packs can break apart if the dynamics are off. So you can either assert your dominance and make it clear that the bullshit ends here and now, or you can let it roll off you and move on with life. You don’t want to piss her off, but maybe she needs to be put into her place. Then again, maybe she’ll sizzle out and any further instigation will make things worse.

**Route Option: How do you handle Peaceful, the female tribute from District 1?**

_a) Stand your ground and let her know that she can’t mess with you._ {Route chosen}  
b) Let her take her anger out on you and brush it off.


	10. Training Day 1, Pt III

# Training Day 1, Pt III

Peaceful is struggling with the fact that you might have the advantage because of who your father is. Funny that she doesn’t seem to realize that there haven’t been too many second generation victors. In the end, she’s taking out her insecurities on you—which, despite how annoying it is, is actually very good to know that this is how she feels. You’ll have to discuss this with Alexis tonight.

“If I didn’t think I was better than you, then I wouldn’t have volunteered,” you say. “But then again, the same applies for you. We’re Careers. There’s a certain amount of confidence—or arrogance—needed to volunteer for the Hunger Games.”

Peaceful doesn’t have an answer to this, at least not right away. You feel the eyes of your fellow Career tributes on you, but nobody makes a move. Right now, this is between you and Peaceful, and they want to see how this unfolds before they step in to smooth things over. Or choose sides.

You’ve met a lot of tribute hopefuls like Peaceful, and it’s annoying that she was chosen as the female representative from her district, like they couldn’t have found somebody better. Ah, well, if you hadn’t volunteered, then they would have had _two_ obnoxious insecure idiots to deal with, and things really would have gone over well in the arena.

The District 1 girl looks you up and down. She scoffs, as though what she sees is completely repulsive.

“We’ll have our alliance,” the girl says at last. “Because I like to play nice with my allies. But the moment our alliance breaks, I will kill you.”

“Sure, you can try,” you answer with a shrug.

“Woah, Peaceful, let’s not have any of that right now,” Jeremy cuts in before the conversation can go downhill. Careers will eventually turn on each other, but making threats like this right from the beginning will only damage the alliance. The District 4 pair look uneasily at each other. Stoney remains straight-faced.

“You know that whoever kills her will receive the best sponsorships,” she says to him. “Wouldn’t that be a nice way to strengthen our alliance?”

She’s trying to unnerve you. You don’t think she’d have the guts to try to off you because for as crazy as she’s talking right now, you suspect she realizes that killing you too early means that the other Careers will turn on her.

“Right, well, I’m going to be a useful member of this alliance and check out our competition,” you say to the others. “See you around.”

You want to give everybody time to cool down before things heat up again, and you doubt that Peaceful will do much besides get ticked off at you if you stay around her. And at any rate, you really do want to see the other tributes.

This is where you differ from most Careers: you actually give a shit about the other kids who are here. You know that you’ll end up killing them, and you feel like you at least owe it to them to be a decent human being between now and then. Is that messed up? It’s probably messed up. You’re not trying to be their friends, but you at least don’t want them to think that you’re having fun. You’ll never be able to convince them—even if you could—that you’re just a pawn like them, but maybe you could make things easier.

For them. Not for you. You know that if you live through this, you’ll spend the rest of your life haunted by their faces. Nightmares, regrets, self-loathing—you’ve seen it within every face in Victor Village. You won’t be able to escape it, and you know that interacting with the other tributes will only make it worse. But this—spending time with the kids you’ll inevitably kill—is just part of your penance for sins you have not yet committed.

Once you’re away from the other Careers, you take a look at the various options.

**Route Option: Where do you go first?**

_a) Knots & Snares w/ Proton (D5F) and Spark (D5M)_ {route chosen}  
b) Fire building w/ Petrol (D6F)  
c) Shelter w/ Lamb (D10F)  
d) First aid w/ Dakota (D10M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving you lots of route choices right now because, well, I can.
> 
> Also, I just want to say that this is really challenging to write! Normally I do several chapters at a time and then start posting them while working a few chapters down the road, so having to not write for awhile and then write on the fly is really weird. But not necessarily bad. It's just super different, so thanks for bearing with me.
> 
> And on a completely different note, I would like your opinion on something. I have kind of run out of room in my "Alternate Universe Hunger Games" series description and notes to actually include any more information. I might be able to add a couple more victors to the list, but I can't add any more stories (where I have things listed in chronological order). Would it be an AO3 faux pas to create a separate "work" to keep track of characters and stories? I don't want to screw over other authors by "spamming" the HG tag with my crap.


	11. Training Day 1, Pt IV

# Training Day 1, Pt IV

You need to brush up on your knots and snares, so it wouldn’t hurt you to go over to that station. Again, you remind yourself, you’re someone who is pretending she knows this stuff but also doesn’t really know it. You know a few things—probably more than most tributes—but if put to the challenge in the arena, it’s not going to be your moment to show your skills. You’d stagger through it and maybe catch something if you’re lucky, but that’s not the image you want to portray.

When you approach the station, the District 5 tributes, Proton and Spark, shy away from you. This doesn’t surprise you in the least. You pretend to pay little heed, but you can’t forget how the little girl cried when her name was called. The tears have long since left her cheeks, but she looks like she’s one strong gust of wind away from crumbling to pieces. The trainer smiles at you and begins to show you a few of the basics.

“I know that one already,” you tell her before she wastes your time going over things that you learned in elementary school. “Can you please show me how to do that knot?”

You point towards a more complicated one that you haven’t seen before. The trainer is only more than delighted to show you, and you think that maybe she hasn’t had the opportunity to explain this one to kids who could barely tie two strings together. It’s not like anyone who knows what they’re doing would come and visit this station. But as she shows you how to make the knot, you feel the District 5 tributes watching you carefully. They’re curious about you and why you have come here. You haven’t paid them any attention, so you’re not exhibiting any sign of threatening them.

The trainer tells you what a good job you’re doing, and then she turns back to the kids to give them instructions in the basic knots they’re trying. And you mean _basic_. These kids don’t know what they’re doing.

 _They don’t have a chance in the arena,_ you think as a wave of sadness knocks into you.

It’s worse than you thought. You knew that you’d be pitted against kids far less skilled than you and that you’d be expected to kill them. You knew it, and you still volunteered anyhow. But this is disgusting. They have no chance at all, and here you have trained your entire life for this. You’re going to kill this little girl with the round cheeks and large eyes and the small boy who probably gets shoved into the trash can at school by kids a year younger than him. Your stomach twists and you feel yourself lose all appetite for lunch.

How are you going to do this? How the _hell_ are you going to manage killing these kids? Or any of the other ones in here? Maybe it was a bad idea to scope out the other tributes.

 _Dad managed,_ you remind yourself. _Somehow he was able to do this. I can, too._

And then you’ll spend the rest of your life hating yourself for it.

But it’s not like if you died, one of these kids would win anyhow. That would go to somebody like Peaceful, and you sure as hell won’t be letting that happen.

To your relief, the lead trainer blows a whistle and calls you all to lunch. You set down the ropes in your hands and step back away from the table. Without looking at the District 5 tributes, you jog off across the training room to catch up with the other Careers. Despite the revulsion that clenches your insides, you’re going to have to put on a brave face and pretend like everything’s okay. So when you catch up to the others near the lunch tables, you offer them a nod.

“What did you find?” Jeremy asks as the six of you line up first. The other tributes hang back, not wanting to get anywhere near you guys. Again, you can’t blame them.

“Not a whole lot,” you answer. “Didn’t have much time before lunch was called.”

True enough. And it’s not like you’re going to reveal that you are seriously doubting your roll in these kids’ inevitable deaths. You glance over towards Peaceful who is chatting with Pacifica and very much ignoring you. Well, might as well let her have more time to chill out. You fill your plate with sandwiches, nuts, fruit, and vegetables and force yourself to eat despite having no appetite at all. You chat casually with the other Careers.

Stoney wants to go back to the spear station. He’s good at it, and you figure he wants to show off. But you’re really curious about what he can do at the other stations, too.

Pacifica says she wants to brush up on archery. She tells you guys that she’s decent at it, but not the best and would like to make sure that at least one person in the alliance has skills with a projectile weapon.

Peaceful says that archery is a waste and she wants to work on the knives. You realize that you don’t really know what she’s good at, and you’re going to have to watch her. Not right now, though. You don’t want to make her uncomfortable with you at this time, so you’ll give her space until she gets more settled in.

Jeremy is game to go wherever anyone else goes. You’ve seen him use a sword earlier, and you know he’s good at that, but he doesn’t seem keen to reveal the weapon he has the most talent in.

Murray wants the heavy weaponry, but he says that he’s pretty good at it so if we all decide to work on something else, he’s okay skipping it.

You don’t offer up much to the conversation except that you’re going to go back to scout out the other kids. The other Careers raise eyebrows at this. To a Career, hanging out with the non-Careers is pointless. It’s not like the other tributes will divulge any information to you because both you and they know that you’ll eventually kill them anyhow. You tread a fine line here, and you need to do it carefully.

Lunch ends, and you hang out with the Careers as tributes choose their various stations.

**Route Option: Who do you spend time with next?**

_a) Edible plants with Cathode (D3F)_ {route chosen}  
b) Climbing with Malt (D9M)  
c) Shelter building with Peach (D11F)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback re: my inquiry in the last chapter. I have made another work to hold the series information, found [right here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759257).


	12. Training Day 1, Pt V

# Training Day 1, Pt V

You settle on edible plants. There’s only one tribute here, Cathode of District 3. They said she was sixteen years old, but she looks more like thirteen. She’s tinier than you are, but her fingers are nimble as she sorts through various leaf samples. Each one is labelled but you know them all off the top of your head. Cathode, however, turns every leaf over and examines it carefully before setting it to the side. After a moment of observation, you realize that she’s organizing them.

And at that same moment, she turns around and stares at you.

“District 3 always dies in the bloodbath, so you don’t need to rub it in,” she says sharply. But despite her firm words, you see that her bottom lip trembles. She pulls herself together and turns back to the leaves.

You can’t do this. You can’t kill these kids.

Yes you can. You _must_. Because if you don’t kill them, then they will kill you. That’s been the folly of many Careers in the past; they assume that a tribute is useless only to find out that the tribute is far more skilled than they realized.

You draw in a breath and say, “You’re organizing them by edibility. Be careful between those two right there—they look similar but one will fill in your diet and the other will give you a nasty rash.”

The girl looks down at the leaf in her hand. She sets it down gently. You know that the leaves here are likely synthetic, or at least somehow they removed any sort of irritant or poison in them. She doesn’t, of course. She wipes her hands on her pant leg as though that would remove the unwanted effect.

“Now you’ve spread it to your clothes and will likely rub up against it later,” you point out.

She turns and stares hard at you.

“Why are you talking to me?” she asks after a second of looking you over. She holds herself proudly, but her body trembles. By speaking with her for a whole three sentences, you’ve managed to freak her out. Not your plan, but it’s good to know that, like at the reaping, she can hold herself together pretty well even when she’s scared. And, you note, she is a natural organizer even if her skills in edible plants are hit or miss.

You shrug as an answer. “Got bored with the other Careers,” you answer. “Wanted to see who else was here.”

“You’re choosing who you’re going to kill first,” Cathode corrects.

You grin at her. “I don’t think we get that luxury in the bloodbath,” you say. “Stay away from me, and I will have no reason to kill you.”

“That’s reassuring,” she comments with sarcasm. She turns back to her leaves and continues to sort through them. Edible. Non-edible. Edible. Edible. Non-edible. You wouldn’t have expected somebody from District 3 to be that good at identifying plants that probably don’t grow in the dry, hot part of Panem, but she’s pretty decent. Very few mistakes, but the ones she makes might very well end up in her death if she’s not careful. You avoid making any more comments on her work and turn to the instructor.

“I need to refresh my memory on a few things,” you say to him. He nods and the two of you begin sorting out where you’re a bit rusty (you’re not, but no one needs to know that), and then he launches in on a miniature lecture. A waste of time, but you nod as though you’re listening.

Instead you watch Cathode slip a few leaves into her pocket while the trainer is distracted. You barely suppress a grin but manage to pretend like you’ve found amusement in something the trainer tells you. Cathode intrigues you, and you wish you could watch her more, but she disappears from the station while you and the trainer talk about plant life in humid environments.

Your training is interrupted when you hear commotion from elsewhere in the room. You and the trainer both look up, and to your irritation, it’s coming from the Careers. They’re shouting back and forth, but from here you can’t tell who is saying what or what got them all riled up.

**Route Option: Do you investigate the commotion or continue checking out another station?**

a) Investigate commotion with the Careers  
b) Continue with the next station and ignore the Careers


End file.
